avoir le coup de foudre
by shiny happy fits of rage
Summary: You begin to comprehend the word unrequited when you realize that its been four months and you still want him to carry you like he carried his girlfriend that blistering September day. Prompt #15728: coup de foudre – a bolt of lightning (love at first sight)


**I wrote this a really long time ago and idk it is kind of sweet but a really boring idea, idk just me clearing old documents off my computer, enjoy.**

* * *

You first notice him when he walks into your first Fundamental of Inorganic Chemistry class late and your professor gives him such a frosty look that he turns around without thinking about it and walks right out. Every student erupts into laughter as he reenters, sheepishly, and he is secretly Professor Kumar's favorite for the rest of the year.

His decision to sit next to you makes your stomach clench, but you don't tell him that, of course. You may have crashed and burned in high school but you're not totally inept. Instead, you talk about him. His name is Wally West (_oh my God_, _alliteration_, Lily cackles), he's from Missouri (_a country boy_, Jennifer giggles) and he was, according to him, a total loser throughout high school. He always wanted to do track, but somehow never got around to it. He loves his mom a lot (_stop it, _Lily groans and flops on the floor, _he's adorable. He escaped from a Hallmark movie_). He has very white teeth and green eyes that crinkle when he laughs at his own jokes.

You leave that class with your books clutched to your chest as if they will stop everyone from seeing your heart fall out onto the pavement, but you don't think it works very well.

When you go back to the apartment you share with your friends, you make the cataclysmic mistake of mentioning him to your roommates, who rave about this boy, whom they've never met, so much that you trick yourself into believing that it might be possible. That is until you walk across the quad and you see him pick up a girl and twirl her around so sincerely that you can't even hate her. Although it would be so easy. She's too beautiful to be real, too nightmarishly gorgeous to be anything but completely in love with _your _guy (and it hurts that you have already started to think about him that way). Her blonde hair is princess like and her laughter is virulent. You watch bitterly as they walk away, her elbows occasionally digging into his side as he makes, no doubt, terrible jokes. Honestly, it's like a car accident.

Your friends are appropriately sympathetic, but they are still stupidly optimistic and you regret telling them anything to begin with (he was just a cute guy in your class who accidentally smiled at her. How did it turn into this?). "What's _she _doing with him?" scoffs Lily, her nose crinkled. "I thought you said he was a nerd."

"A hot nerd," you say forlornly into your pillow.

"Not _Miss America_ hot," argues Jess, who had forced you into pointing him out yesterday. "This is California. She's _totally_ a California girl, and California girls like nothing but Taco Bell and knockout guys. Who, like, lie on the beach all day and smoke pot but are _totally chill_, you know? He'll be single before October."

He is not single in October. Or November, or December. And what makes it harder is that not only is he not single, but he isn't _gone_, either. He says hi every morning and you communally roll your eyes every time Zack Huang sets his hand on fire during lab and when you receive bleary, midnight texts from him that are generally along the lines of "homewodlaoduKSOWO?", you understand that he wants to know what the homework was. You begin to comprehend the word _unrequited_ when you realize that its been four months and you still want him to carry you like he carried his girlfriend that blistering September day.

Speaking of which, you've found out more about her, all from Wally. Her name is Artemis, he tells you (of _course_ she was named after a goddess), and she is double majoring in Human Biology and Comparative Lit (of _course_ she's a double major), and they've been dating since he was sixteen (of _course_ it's longterm). When he talks about her, his grin becomes fonder and he sometimes shakes his head and stares at the ceiling, as if he cannot believe his luck.

* * *

At the end of the year, you hug him goodbye for the summer and even afford to send a rather forced wave towards Artemis, who raises one eyebrow, making you flush. You go home and spend the entire summer alternating between mulling over how you wasted an entire year lovelorn over a boy who was never even remotely available to desperately wondering what's he's doing right now. It's pathetic. Its deplorable. You want to see him again.

And you do, but not in the way you planned. When you return to college, you are aghast to discover that, of all the apartments in Palo Alto, Wally and Artemis _had_ to choose one of the ones in their fourplex to move into. "It's fate," proclaims Jess as you stare hopelessly out the window at the boxes and suitcases waiting ominously on the sidewalk. Artemis appears in your line of vision and picks up a large box with little to no effort (she's incredibly in shape as well, by the way, of _course_ she is). As she does, Wally approaches, and you duck your head, groaning loudly.

"The universe hates me," you complain.

"It could be worse," says Jess sagely. She sighs and glances at her bedroom door. "You could share a wall with them."

"_Ew_, Jess," you squeal. "No thank you."

It is a valid point, however.

* * *

"So, I guess we're neighbors," says Wally when (surprise) they end up sitting next to each other in class again. "I'm living in your fourplex now. Me and Artemis have moved in with each other."

"That's sweet," you say. God, what a filthy liar.

* * *

In principle, you always disregard any rumor you hear. You were the subject of many in those painful teenage years and believing in them yourself, or worse, spreading them, seems rather hypocritical.

This changes when the the hot gossip among your friends and classmates is that Artemis Crock is dead.

You haven't seen Artemis since last week, and Wally is late to class a lot more than he usually is, and when he does show up, he is strikingly solemn. He stares at the clock a lot more and drums on his desk a lot more and he stops asking you about the homework, because he has stopped doing it.

The guilt sets in whenever you see him, because there were many a time this year and last year when spiteful daydreams consumed you, silly, spiteful daydreams that generally involved Artemis suddenly disappearing to go be an Olympic gymnast or to run off with the guy she really loves. Eventually, unable to stand it anymore, you take the plate of slutty brownies Lily has just baked and knock on their (his) front door.

He opens the door slowly, and the way he is completely unsurprised to see her makes you almost turn around. "Is… um, I heard some, uh. Is Artemis, uh…"

He stares at you for a second too long, and your left foot rubs awkwardly against your other ankle. "Uh, yeah," he says, looking dubious. "She's.. gone."

You take a heavy breath and shove your plate into his arms. He takes it, befuddled. "I'm sorry," you mumble. "For your loss." And you leave.

* * *

When school starts again in the fall, you are completely bewildered to see _her_, her hair in need of a trim, her boots stomping impatiently along the pavement. You are also completely bewildered by the only two emotions she seems capable of showing; crying bitterly, or none at all. She bangs stuff against the wall a lot. It only makes sense when the notice is posted and Professor Kumar is distracted in class, and even then, it doesn't make any sense.

For the second time in one year, you knock on his (her) door with a plate full of food. Artemis opens it, and she is so _so_ tired, that it makes you uncomfortable. "You liked him, didn't you?" she barks before the door has even stopped moving.

You don't know what to say, unsure of whether a denial or a confirmation will fix this situation (of _course_ it won't), so you say nothing.

Artemis looks like she might say something else biting (_She lets you get away with absolutely nothing_, says Wally admiringly. _It's incredible_), but then she deflates. "Yeah," she mutters. "Me too." She accepts the brownies and shuts herself back in, and for the first time in two years, you are relieved you are not her.

* * *

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